Galle, Fish and Fortifications: Part 14 of Sri Lanka, Isle of Serendip

A Port City Fortified, in Turn, by the Portuguese, Dutch and British

The Coast Road and Fishermen on Stilts

Sri Lanka

Sadly the time had come for us to return to Colombo, completing our big circle round central and southern Sri Lanka, and then head home.

We drove west from Marissa, the road no more than a line of palm trees from the beach, a pretty coastline with more fishing boats than sunbathers. If there were few reminders of the devastating tsunami of 2004, it was not possible to erase it from our minds completely.

Stilt fishermen may be unique to Sri Lanka and at one time they were promoted as one of the sights of the island; perched on flimsy bamboo constructions (not actualy stilts) among the breakers they have, or rather had, an unusual though not particularly ancient method of fishing. After the fall of Singapore in 1942 the British feared the Japanese would next target Sri Lanka in a bid to establish a route to the oilfields of the Persian Gulf. To defend the island the coastal waters were extensively mined so the locals, not wishing to be blown up, beached their boats and took to stilt fishing. After the war, when the mines were cleared, stilt fishing lingered on, but increasingly as a tourist attraction. Today, anyone perching on stilts during the hours of daylight is fishing only for tourists.

In this post we travel from Marissa, just west of Matara, to Galle and then on to Colombo

As reality morphed into pantomime and tourist board promotion declined, the touts patrolling the shore demanding money from gawping tourists became ever more unpleasant and aggressive.

We encountered the largest concentration around the small town of Ahangama though, like coastal strips everywhere, one place seemed to run into another and I was never quite sure where we were. Ravi was reluctant to stop but slowed to walking pace so we could grab the picture below. Taken on the move with a small and distant subject, it is hardly a photographic masterpiece but even in obtaining this we were challenged by touts running towards us aggressively suggesting that we should pay for the privilege of taking a picture in public. Ravi shook his head and accelerated away to the sound of abuse.

Stilt fisherman somewhere near Ahangama

Galle's Somewhat Ad Hoc Fish Market

A little further down the road, on the outskirts of the city of Galle, we paused at the fish market. The catch, differentiated by species, was laid out on blankets on the pavement. Some of the stalls were extensive while others displayed only the product of a single small boat.

The fish market, Galle

With just under 100,000 residents, Galle (pronounced 'Gaul') is Sri Lanka's fifth biggest city. It was an important trading post long before the arrival of Europeans; 'a flourishing settlement' according to the 14th century Moroccan traveller Ibn Battuta. James Emerson Tennent, a 19th century British Governor of Ceylon identified Galle with the biblical Tarshish, from where King Solomon obtained gold, spices, ivory, apes and peacocks. The idea is fanciful, though all those goods would have been available.

The Fish market, Galle

The Arrival of the Europeans

A Portuguese fleet sheltered in the harbour in 1505. Hearing the town's many cockerels crowing at dusk they named the city Ponte de Galo, which in time became Galle. This too is fanciful - it probably derives from the Sinhalese gala, a place where cattle are herded - a common element in place names throughout the island.

80 years after they first put in an appearance the Portuguese returned and built a fortress on the easily defended, roughly rectangular headland. The Dutch captured Galle in 1640 after a four day siege and set about a serious upgrade of the fortifications. Their fort and the enclosed old city are a UNESCO world heritage site.

Galle Fort, copyright Galle Media Works, borrowed from Wikipedia
I like to use my own photographs where possible, but this aerial view shows Galle Fort so well I could not resist it
The harbour is on the right with the grassy oval of the cricket stadium behind while on the seaward edge the lighthouse and the white Meeran Jumma mosque stand out. The modern city is mostly hidden in the trees, top right.

The fortifications were never tested in armed conflict; when the British ousted the Dutch during the Napoleonic War little shooting was involved. They did, however prove their worth in the 2004 tsunami, protecting the old town while the new town was devastated.

The massive Sun, Moon and Star Bastions protect the vulnerable landward side. The rather ugly clock tower was added in 1883 during British rule and was paid for by public subscription to commemorate a much loved local doctor.

The clock tower and the Moon Bastion, Galle Fort

The International Cricket Stadium

On the neck of land between the fort and the new city is Galle International Stadium. Still the home of Galle Cricket Club it was upgraded in 1998 to also become a Test Match venue. Largely destroyed in the 2004 tsunami, it was rebuilt and reopened in 2007. Unlike the Rajapaska stadium in Hambantota, and the Dambulla stadium this is definitely not a white elephant, having staged 23 test matches and numerous one day internationals. From the picture it is not obvious how it accommodates 35,000 spectators, nor why it is unfailingly described as the most picturesque stadium on the test circuit, but the grandstands would give views of the bastions on one side and the Indian ocean on two others.

Galle International Cricket Stadium from the Moon Bastion

A Circular Tour of the Fort

From the bastion we headed out to the northern edge of the fortification and strolled along the wall above the ocean.

The walls are dead straight between the sharp angles required to accommodate nature’s reluctance to deliver straight lines. On each angle is a bastion staring defiantly out to sea and providing lines of fire along the sea wall – lines of fire that have never been used.

Looking back at Flag Rock Bastion on the seaward side, Galle Fort

Utrecht Point, the Lighthouse and Meeran Jumma Mosque

Eventually we turned left across the blunt end of the headland towards the lighthouse on bastion at the Utrecht Point.

Approaching the lighthouse on Utrecht Point Bastion

Across the road, just before the lighthouse, is the Meeran Jumma mosque. The Portuguese allowed no mosques inside their fort, but the Dutch were more relaxed and the first mosque was built in the 1750s. The Meeran Jumma mosque was built in 1904 on the site of the earlier Portuguese cathedral which may or may not account for its strangely Portuguese baroque look. Two small towers pass for minarets and if it was not for the Arabic writing and the crescent moons on the towers it would not be recognisable as a mosque. I have been unable to find any convincing reason for the unusual design.

Meeran Jumma mosque, Galle Fort

Queen street and the Anglican and Dutch Reformed Churches

Approaching the harbour we left the wall and dropped into Queen’s Street where we paused at a converted warehouse for an overpriced ginger beer.

A good spot for an over-priced ginger beer, Galle Fort

A little further along is the Old Portuguese Gate, one of the few physical remnants of Portuguese rule. Until the British punched the Main Gate through the wall between the Moon and Sun bastions it remained the only entrance to the fort. The coat of arms over the gate is of the Dutch East India Company with their VOC logo (Vereenigde Oost-Indische Compagnie). The British coat of arms sits on the outside of the gate, rather emphasising the passing of Portuguese power.

The Old Portuguese Gate, Galle Fort

At the end of Queen's Street is the post office where there is still a functioning British Pillar box, the GviR suggesting it was put here between 1936 and 1952.

A very British pillar box, Galle Fort

Built in 1836, the nearby All Saint's church with its strange squat tower is a small isolated fragment of the English gothic revival. I rather like it, despite the Lonely Planet calling it ugly, though I admit it looks more than a little out of place.

All Saints Anglican Church, Galle Fort

The Lonely Planet also calls the interior dark and mildewed, but I think the Burmese teak pews are rather fine. The church still functions and despite the altar standing on the site of the former town gallows it summons up the strange homely charm of the ‘warm beer and spinsters on bicycles' branch of the C of E which never really existed outside John Major’s imagination.

Burmese teak pews and the former site of the town gallows
All Saints Anglican Church, Galle Fort

Further up the road the Dutch Reform Church is a more universally admired piece of colonial architecture. The ‘Groote Kirke’ is the third building in Galle to serve as a church for the Dutch community. Built in 1755 the detached belfry was added 50 years later. It is so detached it is on the other side of the road and we did not even notice it.

The Groote Kirke, Dutch Reformed Church, Galle Fort

Taking the Morotway to Colombo

That completed our circumambulation of Galle Fort. Having visited one of the wards of Galle we, like most tourists, left the other fourteen unvisited and continued our drive along the coast. There are 120km of this road before Colombo and as we had already seen plenty of it Ravi suggested we take the motorway. Unaware that Sri Lanka had a genuine stretch of motorway/autobahn/freeway we readily agreed.

On a new multi-lane road, unhindered by much traffic we made short work of the distance. I am old enough to remember a time when motorways were a novelty and people actually went out to service stations to eat. We had lunch at Sri Lanka's one and only motorway service station. It was clean, bright and largely empty but we found a bakery that provided a very satisfactory light lunch.

Lunch at a motorway service station, Galle to Colombo motorway

We arrived in Colombo in the early afternoon. The rest of the day belongs with the Colombo post, the next and final one from Sri Lanka.

Sri Lanka, The Isle of Serendip

Part 1: Colombo to Anuradhapura and Mihintale
Part 2: Anuradhapura Ancient and Modern
Part 3: Polonnaruwa and Kandalama, An Ancient City and a Modern Hotel
Part 4: Sigiriya Rock and an Ayurvedic Massage
Part 5: Dambulla and on to Kandy
Part 6: Kandy and Around
Part 7: By Train to Nuwara Eliya
Part 8: The Horton Plains, Nuwara Eliya and a Cup of Tea
Part 9: Through Bandarawela and on to Ella
Part 10: Ella, Little Adam's Peak and the Demodara Bridge
Part 11: The Sinharaja Rainforest
Part 12: Kataragama and the Yala National Park
Part 13: Through Hambantota to Mirissa
Part 14: Galle, Fish and Fortifications
Part 15: Colombo, National Day and a Full Moon

Through Hambantota to the Beaches of Mirissa: Part 13 of Sri Lanka, Isle of Serendip

A Dubious President, an Important Lighthouse and the Sybaritic Pleasures of the Beach

31-Jan-2015

Tissa to Mirissa

Sri Lanka

In the morning we drove south through Tissa, round its large white dagoba and headed westwards across the coastal plain.

Eventually we reached the A2 coastal road, but I have no idea of the route we took to get there. Part of the journey, across the Hambantota Division, was on a six lane dual-carriageway, the first road with more than two lanes that we had seen in Sri Lanka. It was built to provide access to Mattala Rajapaska Interntaional airport.

South East Sri Lanka
Hambantota is a large District (in pink), a Division (a central N-S slice through the District) and a coastal town within that Division!

The decision to place an international airport in the small town of Mattala was not without controversy. Maybe I am being unduly cynical in thinking that President Mahinda Rajapaska’s plan to turn Hambantota into the country’s second urban hub may have had something to do with it being his home area. And maybe I am not. The airport opened in 2013 and currently has a daily flight to Dubai, though nowhere else. Further south in Hambantota the 35,000 seat Rajapaksa International Cricket Stadium – the second biggest in Sri Lanka - opened in 2011. Another white elephant, it staged 2 matches in the 2012 World Cup and 3 in the 2012 World Twenty20, otherwise it has stood idle. Even further south, the Magampura Rajapaksa Port would appear to be a more successful venture. Elected President in 2005 and re-elected in 2010, Mahinda Rajapaksa was narrowly defeated by Maithripala Sirisena in 2015 though, unsurprisingly, he won in Hambantota. The election had been held on the 8th of January and as we had arrived in Sri Lanka only ten days later we had been following events with some apprehension, but there was a smooth transition of power.

Leaving the big road we passed through several small towns, notiicing as we passed a fashion among the local tuk-tuk drivers to improve their vehicles with ‘silver’ decorations. A small spade, a set of steps up the back, a fire extinguisher or a two metre tall aerial were among the more popular adornments.

'Improved' tuk-tuks on the A2

We paused for a refreshing coconut….

Coconut stall by the sea on the A2

… at a stall beside the sea. It was hot and Lynne did not linger in direct sunshine once I had taken the photo below.

Lynne and a coconut by the sea

In Matara (or was it Tangalle?) we passed the green painted concrete wall surrounding Mr Rajapaksa's house. A queue of supplicants waited outside; he is clearly an important and powerful man, though he now has no official position [update: He became an MP in the November 2015 parliamentary election].

Dondra Head Lighthouse

6km before Matara, Dondra is a small enough to pass through without noticing but it was once one of the island's main temple towns. The great temple of Vishnu was destroyed by the Portuguese in 1588 and almost nothing now remains. Turning off the main road we travelled along narrow lanes past fishermen's cottages. Ravi parked the car and we walked along the road above the beach, through an open iron gate and into a quiet garden of coconut trees. In the garden is Dondra Head lighthouse, built in 1889 by William Douglass (see Prawle Point to Start Bay in Devon) for the Imperial Lighthouse Service who imported all the materials, including the granite blocks from which it is built, from Britain. At 49m it is the tallest lighthouse in Sri Lanka and still safeguards shipping as it has for the last 125 years.

Dondra Head lighthouse

It also marks the most southerly point of the island and hence the most southerly point Lynne and I have ever reached [Until we went to Malacca in 2017]. South from here the next land is Antarctica. As we drove through the lanes Ravi had not been entirely sure of the way so asked a local. During the conversation it became clear that 'lighthouse' has been incorporated into Sinhalese.

Dondra Head

Introducing Mirissa

Mirissa, half way between Matara and Weligama at the bottom left corner of the map, is another small, dusty town straddling the A2. It could be easily missed as the hotels and guesthouses - most of the town’s buildings - face not onto the road, but onto the beach, an arc of golden sand fringed by palm trees and pounded by breakers rolling in from the vastness of the Indian Ocean.

We checked in to one such hotel and were shown to a large comfortable ground floor room with a patio. Beyond the patio was the hotel garden, beyond that the beach and the blueness of the Indian Ocean. 'A sea view room,' I said happily watching the sun sparkle on the sea. 'A tsunami view room,' Lynne said darkly. Lynne can be relied upon to spot the downside of the most beautiful location, particularly when water is involved.

The hotel garden and the sea from our patio, Mirissa

At lunchtime we made the mistake of heading out to the main road. It was noisy, dusty and extraordinary hot - and there was very little there. We found a sandwich shop frequented by young westerners where a chicken sandwich and a ginger beer were pretty much all they had to offer.

On the way back we passed what maybe the first of a coming invasion - or more likely an unofficial borrowing of a name.

Aldi, Mirissa

We spent the afternoon in the pleasures of beach and pool. Several thousand miles of uninterrupted ocean provided impressive breakers, regularly topping two metres high. I enjoyed playing with them, but water is not Lynne's natural element, and she enters rough water with extreme care, if at all. You would not know it from her face but the ocean was extraordinarily warm.

Lynne 'enjoys' the waves, Mirissa beach

We were on half board - there was no other option – so in the evening we submitted to the hotel buffet. Buffets, unless they are very good, often turn dining into feeding and that was what happened here. The chef seemed unable to decide what to do, producing some acceptable western dishes and some tolerable Sri Lankan fare but not enough of either to create a proper meal.

Indian Wasp Moth (Amata Passalis) on the hotel wall

01-Feb-2015

Mirissa: A Day of Relaxation Beside the Sea

There was no rush in the morning and when we were good and ready we strolled along the beach to a headland which becomes an island and then a headland again as the extremity of each successive wave laps in and then slides back. It is like that all day; to those who spent childhood holidays by the Bristol channel where the sea retreats daily to the far distance, the concept of an ocean with no apparent tide is disconcerting.

The headland/island, Mirissa Beach

We paused a while to watch the cormorants and a fisherman….

Fisherman and cormorant, Mirissa beach

… then climbed onto the headland/island. From our vantage point, the beach, a narrow arc of sand between the palms and the sea, seemed just a chocolate covered coconut bar short of paradise. Even our hotel, conspicuously not the best architecture on the beach, could not quite spoil it. But there was also the memory of the 2004 Boxing Day tsunami, which killed 35,000 on this coast. Perched on the headland nature looked eternally benign, but it can change in ways we cannot predict and turn on us with a power we can barely comprehend.

Mirissa beach from the headland/island

Descending from the headland we ambled back to our hotel, stopping on the way for a ginger beer at a beachside restaurant. We read their menu and decided to return for lunch, and if lunch spoiled our appetites for the evening buffet, well that would be no great loss.

Ginger beer on the beach, Mirissa

And return we did. Salad and chips with squid (me) and prawns (Lynne) may not have been Sri Lankan in style, but the squid and prawns were local and very fresh and they had been cooked sympathetically.

Squid and prawns, Mirissa beach

The rest of the day passed as seaside days do.

On the beach, Mirissa with the island/headland in the background

We did as much as we wanted, which was very little. It is an idyllic existence, for a day or two anyway, so we idylled, or perhaps idled along with the best of them.

Hotel pool, Mirissa
Pictured in the early morning (when it is empty!)

We did indeed only pick at the evening buffet. Who cares? We enjoyed local drinks, lemon gin before the meal and arrack after, but the hotel ambience had managaed to suck the atmosphere from the bar as well. I suspect that offering half board only rather than bed and breakfast is necessary to avoid having an empty bar and restaurant; a shame as otherwise the hotel had a lot going for it.

Sri Lanka, The Isle of Serendip

Part 1: Colombo to Anuradhapura and Mihintale
Part 2: Anuradhapura Ancient and Modern
Part 3: Polonnaruwa and Kandalama, An Ancient City and a Modern Hotel
Part 4: Sigiriya Rock and an Ayurvedic Massage
Part 5: Dambulla and on to Kandy
Part 6: Kandy and Around
Part 7: By Train to Nuwara Eliya
Part 8: The Horton Plains, Nuwara Eliya and a Cup of Tea
Part 9: Through Bandarawela and on to Ella
Part 10: Ella, Little Adam's Peak and the Demodara Bridge
Part 11: The Sinharaja Rainforest
Part 12: Kataragama and the Yala National Park
Part 13: Through Hambantota to Mirissa
Part 14: Galle, Fish and a Fort
Part 15: Colombo, National Day and a Full Moon

Kataragama and the Yala National Park: Part 12 of Sri Lanka, Isle of Serendip

Puja with Ravi at a Major Shrine and the Animals of the Yala National Park.

29-Jan-2015

Across the Southern Plain from Sinharaja to Tissa

Sri Lanka

Leaving Sinharaja we started the long journey down from the rainforest, the narrow road twisting and turning as it descended to the plain.

Around one o'clock we paused for a refreshing coconut and by half past we were on the fast road across the southern plain we had used yesterday. We paused for a late lunch at a plush hotel near the Udawalawe National Park which proved that opulent surroundings do not always mean superior food. Lynne, still feeling queasy, opted for a chicken sandwich (were those thin slimy slices from a packet really chicken?) while I had a steak baguette (I do not know why, it was as tough as every other piece of beef in Sri Lanka.)

In the national park the same elephant was still trapped between the fence and the lake and the same youths were selling 'mango, elephant lunch'. Further on we saw elephants in the distance living more as nature intended.

Elephants in the Udawalawe National Park

We continued eastward to Tissamaharama (known as Tissa), a small town with a large name and an even larger white dagoba beside an artificial lake. Our hotel’s address was Tissa but Ravi turned north towards Kataragama some twenty kilometres away. Our itinerary for the day included the Kataragama shrine but it was late and Ravi had said earlier that it would be better to go there in the morning. When we were within five kilometres of Kataragama I began to wonder if he had changed his mind without telling us.

Possibly a pied kingfisher, Between Udawalawe and Tissa

'No,' Ravi said, 'your hotel is here.' He slowed as he scanned the sign boards by the roadside. Eventually be found what he was looking for but seemed uncertain if the sign was really pointing down the bumpy track behind. Deciding it was he started to turn right without noticing a motorcyclist bearing down on us. I do not know if my 'hold on!' made any difference but he stamped on the brakes leaving just enough space to for the motorcyclist to squeeze through. With his own brakes full on and not totally in control the rider missed the space and clipped the wing of the car. Ravi wound down the window. I hoped the motorcyclist would use angry words rather than fists, but as he took off his helmet I could see he was laughing. After an unaccountably jovial exchange he puttered off and we completed the last hundred metres of our journey.

Despite the scruffy entrance, the hotel was new, clean…. and empty.

Southern Sri Lanka
We left Sinharaja and crossed the southern plain to Tissa and Kataragama

We ordered dinner at check-in. Tired of rice and curry, and very tired of chicken, I chose a fried fillet of fish with green beans and potatoes while Lynne, still a little under the weather, went for soup.

When dinner time came the whole staff (young, inexperienced but very keen) had only us to look after so the service was attentive, to say the least. I had two fillets, either side, of a fish much smaller than a swordfish, but with a similar taste and texture. It was a little overcooked and the garlicky green beans were a little under and a touch squeaky on the teeth but the potato wedges were perfect, roasted to crispy perfection outside and soft fluffiness within. Lynne’s soup was fine and despite its faults the meal made a pleasant change

There was nothing to do then but retire to our large and well-appointed bedroom. Lynne turned in at 8.45 leaving me with plenty of time to read.

30-Jan-2015

In the morning we discovered we did not have the entire hotel to ourselves when two interlopers turned up for breakfast. Lynne, still fretting about her stomach, settled for toast while I accepted the offer of soggy pancakes, though with little enthusiasm. Then Ravi turned up and they brought him hoppers which had not been offered to us.

The Kataragama Shrine

After breakfast we made the short trip to Kataragama.

Kataragama is the name of a small town, a large shrine and a God. He is the patron deity (or at least one of them) of Sri Lanka and Ravi said that when his travels brought him here he liked to do Puja - if we did not mind. We didn't.

Outside the shrine, Kataragama

The Buddha never claimed to be a god or a prophet and Buddhism, despite its cosmology and belief in re-incarnation, is essentially a philosophy more than a religion. Many Buddhists, though, apparently feel the need for a god or gods. Kataragama is a Hindu god; Puja, the making of an offering, usually of food, is a Hindu practice. Ravi, however, is clear in his own mind that he is a Buddhist. And the shrine we were going to visit? Well, that has something for everyone - there is even a mosque.

Approaching the Shrine

The shrine is large and the car park quite a way from it. We had walked a small distance when rain started to fall. It was heavy, but brief and we sheltered under a tree.

Once the rain stopped we passed an interesting notice, which I reproduce without comment,…

No Comment

… and progressed up a wide avenue lined with stalls. Grey langur monkeys ran behind the stalls or sat on the fence dividing the secular avenue from the sacred parkland.

Grey langurs relax on the fence, Kataragama

At the last stall Ravi stopped to buy flowers and deposit shoes.

Ravi buys flowers, Kataragama

We entered the enclosure of the Kiri Vihara. a dagoba originally built in the 6th century but, as usual in Sri Lanka, has been rebuilt so many times its actual age is anybody's guess.

Kiri Vihara, Kataragama

Ravi went to present flowers to the Buddha image and insisted that we had a lotus blossom each so that we too could make an offering.

Lynne makes an offering at Kiri Vihara, Kataragama

Inside the Kataragama Temple Complex

From the dagoba an avenue of soft sand (our bare feet were grateful) led up to a cloister surrounding the temple of Kataragama and two smaller temples.

Following Ravi into the cloistered enclosure, Kataragama

Inside the cloister Ravi went to buy the offerings for his Puja and suggested we have a look around. We had not gone far when we were hailed by a thin elderly man in white robes sitting in the shade of the cloister. He wanted to know where we came from and as he was sitting with a sheaf of notes and a large English dictionary on this knee, he was delighted to have someone to practice his English on. He had visited England and America, he said and was an avid listener to the BBC World Service. He was certainly well-informed and felt the need to explain his solutions to all the world's problems, working through Ukraine, Syria and how to deal with the Chinese. Although undoubtedly eccentric, his heart was in the right place.

After his lengthy monologue he showed us what he was writing and asked for suggestions to improve the English. We were unsure whether he was composing an advertisement to find free accommodation for a student, or for himself or perhaps writing with an altogether more spiritual interpretation of 'accommodation'. We made some suggestions which he noted and then Ravi re-appeared bearing a cardboard box containing among other things, flowers, a coconut and a pineapple. 'Coming for Puja?' he asked, shooting a suspicious glance at our new friend.

We got up from our perch on the cloister and I shook hands with the venerable sage though, given his holiness, he was less keen to shake a woman's hand. 'Was he after money?' Ravi asked as we followed him to the temple. 'No,' we said, 'only enlightenment.'

Lynne and the Venerable Sage not shaking hands, Kataragama

Puja at the Kataragama Temple Complex

We joined the queue for Puja, a dozen people along the side of the locked temple. As the queue began to build a large and officious man came and hooked us and a couple of other Europeans out. We repositioned ourselves at the front of the temple and waited patiently. The same officious man soon moved us back and strung a rope across to keep us there. Lynne went to sit in the shade while I hung about unobtrusively.

Puja queue, Kataragama

A bell started clanging and a group of monks processed from the adjacent monastery bearing something hidden but obviously holy. They disappeared into the temple, the door closed behind them and the Puja queue continued to wait.

Carrying something holy, Kataragama

Another group of monks processed across, one with his ears and mouth covered with cloth.

Monk with his mouth and ears covered, Kataragama

A red carpet was unrolled from the monastery to the temple and after several more processions I was beginning to wonder if Puja would ever start.

Something holy on a red carpet, Katagarama

My thinking was disturbed by a major clanging of bells. The doors were flung open and the queue lurched forward, though not far, it was a small temple and only a few could fit in. A different official with a more pleasant demeanour came over and beckoned me to follow him. I called Lynne over from her refuge in the shade and he led us back to the Puja queue. After the next clang and shuffle we found ourselves tucked in at the rear of the temple.

There was little to see inside the small, darkened temple. There were a few images, but whatever holy artefacts had been brought in during the processions remained covered. Most importantly, we were in, the only Europeans there, and we were duly thankful to Ravi whose hand was clearly behind it. Along with the faithful, we were blessed as holy water was sprinkled over all, then the priest went round smearing ash to everyone’s foreheads and finally we all received a gift of food, a small parcel of spiced dhal - much tastier than a communion wafer.

As we filed out our benefactor grabbed us and led us into the space between two temples and gestured that we should sit on the wall. He disappeared and returned moments later with a machete and two coconuts. At coconut stalls we always used the straws provided though many locals did not bother. There is a knack to drinking straight from the coconut, and if I had had that knack I would have spilt less on my shirt. As we finished Ravi arrived with a conspiratorial grin on his face and more fruit in his hand.

A school party at the Kataragama shrine wearing the universal all-white school uniform.
Dresses with ties? Yes, that is the rule.

We shared some watermelon and a pineapple with Ravi and his friend and then, with juice still on our faces, retraced our steps through the complex. To complete the symmetry there was another short sharp rain shower as we left, and another tree to shelter under. From Sinharaja rainforest in the southwest we had crossed the island to the extreme southeast; it was monsoon season in the northeast, so I suppose we were catching the edge of the monsoon rains.

Retracing our steps past the flower sellers Kataragama

Lunch in Tissa

We drove south to Tissa stopping at a hotel beside the big white dagoba, a good place for lunch, Ravi said.

There was a wedding in progress and the dining room was unavailable so we were directed to a bare and unattractive overspill room.

I was bored with chicken, beef is always tough and I did not fancy fish so I ordered an egg curry which came with noodles. I questioned my wisdom as I ordered it, but it was cheap and a change. It was also wrong; egg curry and noodles is a match made somewhere other than heaven. Lynne's plate of chips, a heap of comfort food, possibly indicated that a return to digestive health was on its way.

Curried egg and noodles - a poor combination and a poor choice

Lunch over, we waited in the car park for the jeep that was to take us to the Yala National Park. The wedding celebrations were continuing outside and the men were dancing, not all looking entirely sober, while the women sat in a circle tutting at them – or so it looked to me.

The Yala National Park

The sightseeing vehicles in the Yala National Park are converted jeeps with bench seats for six or more perched on the back; more than enough space for the two of us, and Ravi.

A bumpy ride to the Yala National Park

The drive to the park was brief and we bounced along with a good view over the surrounding countryside. We were still outside the park when we saw probably the most exciting animal of the day, a pair of jackals sitting in the grass barely fifty metres from the road.

Jackals outside the Yala National Park
Shame about the power line, but there was no way to move it!

At the park entrance we discovered we were back to the £16 individual entrance fees and as much again for the vehicle - and the hire charge for that would come later. It was no cheap day out. A sign said cards were accepted, so to avoid being cleaned out of cash I waved mine at them. This caused much head-shaking in the office, and a murmur of discontent in the queue behind me, but they coped. I make no apology for my small contribution to dragging them into the modern world – if they want to charge these fees they had better get used to it.

Yala is a wonderful place. Almost 1000km² in area, it has been a nature reserve since 1900 and has a rich biodiversity with 44 different mammals including many elephants and some 200 leopards, reputedly 1 per km² in the sector open to the public, the greatest concentration anywhere..

An as yet identified bird of prey, Yala National Park

That is the good news. The bad news is that no-one is going to see a leopard. The Rough Guide says ‘they have become …habituated to .. humans and … stroll fearlessly along the tracks in the park..’ Maybe that was once true but the government is using the park as a cash cow and there are far too many jeeps rattling around the often dusty but today muddy dirt roads. As word passes round that something can be seen at a certain watering hole, or in such a tree they all converge on the spot causing jams of snarling diesels on roads often too narrow for two vehicles to pass. No self-respecting leopard sticks around for that.

Egret and Ibis, Yala National Park

We saw mammals; buffalo, deer and wild pigs - one bounded across the road right in front of us -….

Wild Pigs, Yala National Park

…and mongooses (that is the correct plural), were common, as they are everywhere in Sri Lanka.’

Mongoose, Yala National Park

Monitor lizards, only slightly smaller than the mongooses, were also plentiful.

Peacock, Yala National Park

We saw ibis, egrets and peacocks by the dozen. It is always strange to see what we think of as an ornamental parkland bird in the wild - those tails seem a serious hindrance.

Peacock in a tree, Yala National Park
Those tails are something of a struggle

Several areas were alive with bee-eaters. Green bee-eaters are hardly rare, but they are pretty little birds and although rarely still, one kindly posed for me.

Small green bee-eater, Yala National Park

We spent the whole afternoon wandering round looking for certain animals and usually finding something else. At the first hint of dusk most of the jeeps bolted for the exit, but our driver set off in the opposite direction. I had not realised we were so near the coast until we arrived at an isolated bay.

We reach a clearing by the coast, Yala National Park

There was nothing to see there apart from the bay itself, but that was justification enough.

At the coast, Yala National Park

Then we too made for the exit. Just before leaving the park we saw a huge hornbill in a tree right in front of us. Like Sinharaja, Yala had kept its best to last, and also like Sinharaja. I have to rely on Thimundu and Wikipedia for a photograph.

Malabar pied hornbill
Photographed by Thimundi, sourced from Wikipedia

We returned to the hotel in Tissa where we had eaten lunch and paid off the jeep driver. Ravi thought we should eat there, but we demurred and once he had picked up his laundry - so that was why he was so keen to go there - we drove to a restaurant a little way up the road towards Kataragama. I had devilled fish which made a change while Lynne had a rather un-Sri Lankan French onion soup, then we made our way back to our hotel and our life of solitary splendour.

Sri Lanka, The Isle of Serendip

Part 1: Colombo to Anuradhapura and Mihintale
Part 2: Anuradhapura Ancient and Modern
Part 3: Polonnaruwa and Kandalama, An Ancient City and a Modern Hotel
Part 4: Sigiriya Rock and an Ayurvedic Massage
Part 5: Dambulla and on to Kandy
Part 6: Kandy and Around
Part 7: By Train to Nuwara Eliya
Part 8: The Horton Plains, Nuwara Eliya and a Cup of Tea
Part 9: Through Bandarawela and on to Ella
Part 10: Ella, Little Adam's Peak and the Demodara Bridge
Part 11: The Sinharaja Rainforest
Part 12: Kataragama and the Yala National Park
Part 13: Through Hambantota to Mirissa
Part 14: Galle, Fish and a Fort
Part 15: Colombo, National Day and a Full Moon